


kiss tomorrow goodbye.

by tulowhiskey



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Emotionally Dysfunctional Infielders, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Ryan Deserves Better Than This Team and This Man, Toronto Blue Jays, Unhappy Ending, because that's healthy, sex instead of talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12918846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulowhiskey/pseuds/tulowhiskey
Summary: "I'm going home tomorrow." Ryan cuts him off quietly.  Without a teammate nearby, without ateam, it doesn't really make sense for him to stay in Las Vegas any longer.





	kiss tomorrow goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> one of my favs got non-tendered and i have a lot of feelings about it. 
> 
> feelings lead to excessive country music. 
> 
> aaaaand here we are. 
> 
>    
> all these words of sadness are thanks in part to ['kiss tomorrow goodbye'](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/lukebryan/kisstomorrowgoodbye.html) by luke bryan. also, the title. obviously. 
> 
>  
> 
> -  
> if you or anyone you know is mentioned in this, please hit back, clear your cache, and never google yourself again, for the love of shoeless joe! 
> 
> none of this is real. (except the tears. those are all mine.)  
> -

It's late when Ryan shows up at Troy's door, but it's not entirely unexpected. The visit itself is a surprise but Troy doesn't have to ask why, doesn't have to ask what's wrong. His phone's been blowing up for hours with the news, and he'd wanted to reach out, but... what could he say? Troy lets him in, and the few moments they stand in the foyer without a word feel long, exhausting. 

Ryan breaks the silence first. "Can we just...?" 

Troy nods, reaching out to take Ryan's hand. He's tentative about it, hoping this is okay. Ryan's eyes follow the motion and he stares at their hands for a long moment, but doesn't fight Troy on the gesture. There wouldn't be any point to that now. 

It's not unfamiliar territory, but Troy still leads the way to the floor level guest suite. At one time it had just been dubbed Ryan's room, he stayed so frequently - that had faded. Troy had relocated after his injury for accessibility to the house, and though he's been reasonably mobile for months now, he hadn't moved back upstairs. 

"Still gotta hide me away in a tower, huh?" Ryan's attempt at a joke can't mask the bitterness in his tone, but Troy doesn't feel bad about this one - that's not what this is. 

"No," he answers simply, opening the door to the bedroom. He'd been here when Ryan called - the basketball game he'd been watching was still muted on the TV; a half empty beer can was still slick with condensation. This isn't hiding Ryan away - it's letting him into the only place where Troy can be his whole, real self, where Ryan’s always had a free pass but no one else could go. Ryan may not have seen it that way before, but it had never been anything different. 

Ryan says nothing, but that's not a bad thing.

Troy doesn't like the sense of finality around them, thick like a heavy fog on the bay where he grew up. "You know you can still -"

"I'm going home tomorrow." Ryan cuts him off quietly. Without a teammate nearby, without a _team_ , it doesn't really make sense for him to stay in Las Vegas any longer. It barely made sense for him to be out here, with Troy, despite everything, in the first place. Still, he was. That had to mean something.

"But you can come back. We're still friends."

"Are we?" 

Troy wants to assure him that yes, they are, absolutely and always, but he can't. There's been too much between them for a seamless transition to that, and it's not his decision to make. If it were, it wouldn't be a question. 

"We can be. If you want," he says meekly, a hand running over his face. 

"Sure, Troy. Of course we can." The patronizing tone makes it clear Ryan doesn't mean it. 

"Okay. Good." It's a hollow reply, a formality, and even knowing he doesn't deserve Ryan's friendship, Troy wants it. Wants him. Being teammates, field partners, that at least forced them into interaction. The next time Ryan left would probably be the last, and fuck, that hurts. 

"Okay," Ryan echoes quietly and, he's had enough talking. His mouth presses against Troy's and his lips are just as soft and full as Troy remembers. The kiss deepens, and he's overwhelmed by the familiar flavour that is uniquely Ryan - a mix of sweet coffee and cherry bubblegum and tobacco. It's intoxicating. 

Ryan's hands have already gotten to work, groping Troy's ass through his sweatpants and pulling him in closer. Their height difference means Troy's dick is stiffening against Ryan's stomach and Ryan's grinding his hips against Troy's thigh, but a quick fix for that is just a few feet away. It's easy to lift Ryan off his feet, easier still when Ryan gets it and his legs wrap around Troy's waist, and they're still kissing when they reach the bed. Troy's careful when he leans Ryan back on the mattress, but Ryan isn’t so quick to let go. His thighs squeeze Troy's hips to keep him in place and then he rolls his own, lifting up to press against the larger body. 

Gravity is working against him, but Troy likes this and gives Ryan what he's after, lowering his body and grinding his hips against Ryan's. He groans when he feels Ryan's cock press against his own, and they fall into a rhythm against one another, kissing and humping, and _fuck_ , it's been so long. Troy can't remember the last time he felt this good, and it’s a lot more than just the blood rushing to his dick. 

The good feelings come to an abrupt stop when Ryan's hands grip Troy's waist and push him back from everything. Troy must look as bewildered as he feels by the move because Ryan lets out a quiet laugh and shoves at his hip, calling Troy's attention back to him.

"Just taking off my pants before my dick snaps," Ryan breathes, unbuttoning the fly and lifting his hips, wiggling the impossibly tight black jeans down. "Can you?" 

Troy nods quickly, happy to do whatever Ryan asks of him as long as it means he's still there, still wants him. He works Ryan free of the jeans and takes him in as he does, willing the vision be committed to his memory for as long as possible - he's sure he'll never get to see it again. 

"Thank you," Ryan says, sitting up to pull off his shirt and tossing it towards the chair where Troy had laid his pants. "You can come back now. Maybe get rid of yours too." 

The suggestion was added with a small but surprisingly warm smile, and Troy’s cheeks are flushing a bright pink. He'd been so lost in his thoughts about Ryan, so careful of the eggshells they'd been walking on for months, he'd almost forgotten what was going on here. Almost. 

His dick had remembered, anyway, still straining against his sweats with a wet circle growing where he'd started leaking. Troy's embarrassed again but Ryan doesn't seem to notice or care, and he kicks his sweats to the floor, his shirt tossed towards where Ryan's had landed. He returns to the bed, and Ryan runs his hands over the flush that spread down to Troy's shoulders. 

"I like that I can still distract you to the point of forgetting how to sex," Ryan teases, leaning in and catching Troy's lip between his teeth. A playful Ryan is a nice change - more than he'd expected given the news, given their apparently-not-even-friends-anymore status - but Troy's not really sure what to make of it. Everything he wants to say now feels too heavy, so he doesn't reply. Instead he brings his hands to hold Ryan's cheeks and leans into the kiss, closing the barely there gap between them. 

Ryan is eager, of course - this is what he came for. His fingers rake down Troy's body, starting at his shoulders and ending at his dick; it sends a deep shiver down his spine. Troy can feel Ryan grin against his mouth, pleased by the reaction - and he smiles back, pleased by a happy Ryan and the way that happy Ryan is touching him. He'd always known exactly where and how to touch Troy to drive him crazy, and it feels like Ryan's laying it all out now, holding nothing back. 

When Ryan pulls back and breaks the kiss, Troy reaches out - or, he wants to, he tries to, but his head is spinning and he doesn't quite get there before he feels Ryan's mouth on him again, this time wrapped around his cock. He lets out a low moan then, at the urging of Ryan's hands pushing at his stomach, lays back against the pillows. One of his hands goes to the back of Ryan's head, resting there and stroking the back of his neck lightly as he bobs up and down. 

“Oh God, Ryan.. you're so fucking good,” he groans, lifting his hips up against Ryan's mouth. There's no reply, of course, but Ryan raises his eyes to meet Troy's and it's all he can do not to burst with all of the feelings that look stirs up. 

“I wanna fuck you. Now.” Troy manages to form words after another moment and Ryan obliges, pulling off his cock. He meets Troy's gaze again and wipes at the drool on his chin like a porn star - Troy could scream, but swallows it back, his throat feeling tight with want. 

“Okay,” Ryan says nonchalantly, as if his dick isn’t twitching at the mention of getting fucked, as if he's not aching for it too. He sits up and reaches over to the bedside table. “Still in here?” 

Troy nods, but Ryan's already found what he needs and returned. A condom is tossed over and lands on Troy's stomach, then Ryan reaches behind himself with slicked up fingers, spreading the wetness around and opening himself up. 

They’re soon both ready and Troy rises to his knees, still aching for Ryan but the urgency from moments ago tempered by the pause. He reaches for Ryan, and is stopped. 

"Wait. Can you do one thing for me?” Ryan asks, his hands pressing on Troy’s chest like a stop sign, allowing him to go no further until the question is addressed. Troy nods, of course - he’d do anything for Ryan, whether Ryan believes that or not. “Can you pretend, one more time?"

The question isn’t what Troy expected to hear, and he doesn’t know what Ryan’s asking for. "Pretend what?" 

Ryan is quiet for a moment, and the breath he takes before speaking seems to shake. "Pretend that this matters. Pretend you love me." 

Troy frowns. Pretend? He doesn't have to pretend any of that. "Ryan.. it does. And I do. How can you not know that?"

"How could anyone know anything about you and your feelings, Troy?" 

That feels like a punch to the gut and part of Troy wants to slam on the brakes, press pause, call time out on this for a minute and explain. Part of Troy is desperate for Ryan to hear what he needs to, to talk until he gets it and believes it, whatever it takes. Troy loves him and always has loved him, and always will love him, wherever he is. 

But that part of Troy is drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears and his dick, and he says nothing of the sort. He leans down instead, forcing a small smile and kissing the top of Ryan’s head.

“You look so good like that, Ry, I fucking love it. I love you baby… I love fucking you, I can’t wait to fill you up.” The smile has twisted into a grimace and it's not that it's untrue, any of it - it just feels insincere, shallow, fake.

Ryan doesn't reply, but he seems satisfied with that and turns around. He leans forward on his elbows and presses his ass back against Troy, more than ready to take him. It is a good look, and it's not hard for Troy to push his uneasiness aside and let his body take the lead. His hands go to Ryan’s hips and he lines himself up, his fingers digging into Ryan’s skin to keep him steady. 

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he groans as Ryan presses back again, rolling his hips up against Troy's hungrily. 

Troy can't resist, doesn't want to resist, and the next time Ryan grinds back against him, he pushes inside. Ryan inhales sharply at the sudden feeling but leans into it, taking Troy all the way in. 

“Fuck, hold on - I forgot how - shit, you're thick,” Ryan gasps out, head hanging down as he tries to adjust to Troy. He rocks forward slightly then back again, and all the while Troy keeps himself restrained, staying still until Ryan is ready for more. It takes a moment and then - “Start slow. Don't wreck me.” 

Troy squeezes Ryan's hips gently in acknowledgement then pulls back slowly, careful to keep his movements controlled. He knows this part of Ryan so well, it's easy to read his body language and adjust as Ryan does, and the transition from slowly opening him up to a heated fucking is seamless. 

This part they'd always been good at. It was everything else that got in their way. 

Ryan is absolutely insatiable and he's no passive participant, pressing back into every thrust and keeping up a running commentary on the size of Troy's dick and how good it feels inside him. It's a talent - Troy had definitely gotten off with little more than Ryan running his mouth before, but it's a lot to take right now on top of everything else. 

“Turn over, I wanna see you.” It's hard to form words but getting harder to find any chill with Ryan going on like he is, and Troy needs this to last. “You're so fuckin’ pretty Ry, wanna see everything.” 

It's probably unfair on some level, knowing how much Ryan likes to hear that and using it to get what he wants, but it goes both ways: Ryan knows exactly what he's doing every time he shares how needy he is for Troy's dick, and he hasn't let up for a second.

“You just wanna shut me up,” Ryan sighs knowingly but turns over, lifting his legs up and hooking his ankles over Troy's shoulders. 

“Maybe.” Troy groans as he sinks into Ryan again, bracing himself with hands on either side of Ryan's chest and this time not taking it slow at all. Ryan cries out and starts to beg for more, and Troy crushes his mouth against Ryan's before he can start again. 

It's still a lot - it's _everything_ , and it isn't very long before a tight heat in Troy's gut starts to swell and he pulls back from Ryan's mouth, dropping his forehead to press against Ryan's chest. 

“You're almost - I want it,” Ryan demands, his hands pushing at Troy's chest to move him away. Troy concedes easily, pulling out and rolling onto his back, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. He knows what's next - Ryan had always wanted to finish him off the same way, and he still thinks of Ryan's hands and mouth on him when he's short on time and jerking off in the shower. 

“Oh my God, Ryan, your fucking mouth.” The words fall between heavy breaths as Ryan’s tongue finds every sensitive spot between between Troy’s legs, touching every nerve ending in the very best way. “Shit, Ry, I can’t -” 

It’s all the warning Ryan needs, and the hand that’s been firmly jerking Troy’s dick peels the condom away, his mouth quick to take it’s place, rough and sloppy and hungry for every drop that shoots against the back of his throat. It’s so good, so much better in real life than fantasy-shower-Ryan; he’s beautiful and perfect and _so good_ , and it’s all Troy can do to blink back the overwhelming crush of feelings that came with his climax. 

“You’re so fucking perfect… come here,” he manages after a moment, grabbing at Ryan’s waist, almost panting as he tries to catch his breath. Ryan’s dick is still raging, and he ruts against Troy when he rolls over, groaning at the friction. Troy pulls him down for a messy kiss, one hand holding the back of Ryan’s neck while the other gropes his ass, two fingers easily sliding inside. They don’t come close to matching for size but dexterity counts, and Troy only has to curl his fingers forward a couple of times before Ryan is moaning into his mouth and grinding hard against his thigh, and spilling all over Troy’s leg. It’s hot and sticky and the mess is made worse when Ryan finishes and sinks down against Troy.

“Oh fuck… sorry,” Ryan breathes after a minute, feeling the sticky heat between their skin. He’s exhausted and overwhelmed from much more than just the sex, and he still stops to think about, to apologize for something Troy had once said he was mildly averse to. 

He's perfect, and it's not just the orgasmic bliss talking anymore. 

“S’okay. Really.” This time, Troy wouldn’t change it for anything, and he runs his hand over Ryan's back, gently pressing him closer. 

It’s a long comedown, and the room is silent as they both cool off and find their breaths and slowly sink back down to earth. Neither body moves but they don't speak either, and when Troy starts to fear the bubble is about to burst, he freezes. There's so much he wants to say before Ryan is gone, so many things he wants to explain, apologize for - everything is overwhelming, and he can't. 

But he doesn't have to. 

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” Ryan breaks the heavy silence with a question that might be rhetorical, but his voice is wavering with a lot of emotions. Troy can't leave him hanging. 

“You'll sign a deal, go make friends with the entire organization, and show everyone up there what a mistake they made. You'll do good, Ry.” 

He stays quiet long enough that Troy begins to think he wasn't looking for a reply and starts to ready an apology for overstepping before Ryan speaks up. 

“I don't want to learn a new city. I don't want new friends. I want -” Ryan cuts himself off, and it's too dark to tell, but when he takes in a sharp breath, Troy wonders if he's crying. 

“I know. It's hard.” He wraps his arms around Ryan's shoulders and hugs him close, surprised when Ryan not only allows it but reciprocates, wrapping his arms around Troy's waist. Troy turns his head and presses a kiss to Ryan's temple. “You'll go, because you have to. And you'll hate it. You'll hate all of it, until something shows up and makes everything feel worth the shitty parts, and you realize it's the only place you ever _could_ be, in the end.” 

Like Troy had hated getting traded, until he got to know Ryan. 

“Don't let it go when it does.” 

Ryan says nothing for a long time, but he doesn't pull away. “I could have loved you so much, if you had let me.” 

Troy has to swallow a lump that's grown in his throat before he can reply, and his voice is still thick with emotion when he does. “I really wanted to.” 

“I know.” Troy doesn't expect that, and doesn't expect Ryan to continue the thought after a pause. “I don't want to be mad at you anymore.” 

Troy doesn't reply to that, closing his eyes and pressing his cheek against Ryan's forehead, just holding him while he still can. It's overwhelming, and he's holding everything in, and he hates it. He hates that even now, after everything, he still can't open up, still can't let himself feel anything.

So he does nothing, and just tries to make this last as long as he can. 

Ryan's warm and soft when he moves again, and leaves a long kiss on Troy's cheek before he sits up. “I need to get back,” he says, and Troy doesn't ask where. He nods, running a hand over his face as he feels the weight lift off the bed and hears Ryan gathering his things in the dark. The shuffling slows, and Troy knows he's ready to go. 

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it. It matters and I love you. It always has, and I always will.” 

It's a lot to say and probably just as much to take, after everything. Troy doesn't expect anything back from Ryan, but he couldn't just let him leave without knowing. He knew Ryan - he didn't want to leave any room for doubt that would eat away at him, not about this. 

Troy hears Ryan step back towards the bed, wants to reach out when Ryan leans down and kisses him one last time. 

“I know.” Fingers run over his jaw, and then the touch is gone as quickly as it came. He speaks again and his voice is already further away. “Goodbye, Troy.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://tulowhiskey.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
